


We'll lay here for years or for hours

by Semperlitluv



Series: Something so precious about this [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, seriously no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 12:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20358721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperlitluv/pseuds/Semperlitluv
Summary: “They are so good together,” Catelyn sighs. There was nothing so satisfying as knowing each of her children was well-loved.Gendry has a rough day. Arya helps. Ned and Catelyn see something touching.





	We'll lay here for years or for hours

Arya has just settled into her favorite corner of the couch when she hears the front door of her flat open. Based on the thudding sound of something heavy hitting the floor - his backpack, she assumes - it’s Gendry. She’d first given him a key a year ago, when they were newly friends. Arya had known even then that she could place her faith in this man. And practically, not knowing anyone else in Storm’s End, she needed a local emergency contact. Gods knew that Sansa had been on the receiving end of a few calls when they were still in undergrad at KLU. Gendry would do the job well in her new town of Storm’s End, even if she had only known him for two weeks. He had protested over that very fact.

_ “See, stupid? Only a honorable man would be worried about my safety right now. Besides, I’m a champion swordswoman, Gendry,” Arya smirked. “You won’t live to cross me twice.”  _

She wonders if Gendry had found anyone else attractive for their violent tendencies or if she was the exception.

Her musings cut off when Gendry comes around the corner into the living room. It’s not unusual for her to see a stoic or sullen Gendry, even if their friends say he only smiles and laughs around her, but this expression is even more sour than his standard look. 

She waits for Gendry to speak first, knowing that in this type of mood, he’ll either really want to talk or he really won’t. Either way, he’ll want to be around her, which is why he always shows up to her place instead of going to his own. Gendry understands her gut reaction of running away and hiding when things get rough for her. He gives her the space to work through her emotions, and patience while she explains them. She can easily give Gendry her presence to soothe his own.

Gendry stomps his way across the floor, pausing at the other end of the couch to toe off his boots. He slumps down into the far cushion mimicking Arya’s upright corner stance before scooting and leaning so his head ends up on Arya’s right thigh, chin pointing up at the ceiling. 

Her hands immediately set down the stack of work papers she was reviewing. Arya cards her fingers through his jet-black hair, pausing to run her right thumb gently across the furrow in Gendry’s brow. 

“Steel’s that bad today, huh?” She quietly states, not quite asking. 

Gendry grumbles intelligibly, eyes staying closed but giving a slight nod. He’d been welding tonight. She could smell the faint burning metal that indicated the assembly of one of his signature art pieces.

“You’ve been working on your MFA project for 12 straight hours, love. My parents don’t get in for a bit. Want to go take a nap in my room? I’ll wake you up before they arrive.” 

He nods as she says “nap,” but then shakes his head at the rest of her sentences before turning onto his right side. This knocks one of Arya’s hands out of his hair, but Gendry doesn’t seem to mind. His back to the rest of her living room, Gendry wiggles his right hand under Arya’s thigh and smushes his face into the space between her belly button and hip bone. 

“Happy right here,” he murmurs.

She breathes a chuckle. Arya runs her right forefinger lightly down from Gendry’s left temple to his jaw, wiping up a bit of stray soot as she goes. She reaches back over to pick up her stack of project proposals, arranging her work on her left leg carefully so she can organize them with just one free hand. Her right hand has found its resting spot: cupping the nape of Gendry’s neck, fingers locked back in his hair. 

By the time she’s settled and starting again with her work reading, Gendry is deeply asleep and already snoring.

* * *

“I’m so glad we keep one of her spare keys for when we visit, Ned,” Catelyn Stark speaks in a hushed tone as she and Ned tiptoe into their daughter’s apartment.

Her husband nods his agreement. Setting their suitcases to the right of the front door, where they can easily be rolled down the carpeted hallway to Arya’s guest bedroom, Ned turns to his wife. 

“Arya’s probably asleep, given our flight delays. Would you like me to fetch you some water? I need a bit before I can settle in.” 

Catelyn gives a little huff of laughter. “I’ll come help you, dear. Let’s not forget the time you ‘quietly’ tried to cook breakfast at Robb and Cella’s.” 

Ned gives her a look that she internally classifies as pure Stark sass - something Catelyn had seen grace the faces of her children as each of them had entered their teenage years. Ned was proof that no Stark ever fully grew out of that phase. 

The couple creeps down the hallway, Catelyn working on untying her scarf as they go. Suddenly, her nose is in Ned’s back. He’d stopped so abruptly, she’d not had time to look up from her task.

Ned gives a little sidestep, pulling Catelyn forward with his arm around her shoulder. 

She smiles. 

Her fierce, wild Arya is asleep on the couch. One leg propped on the coffee table, with a mess of papers across it and down on the floor before her, head leaning back against the point where the high back and arm met.

Catelyn had always marveled at how still Arya was as she slept, given how much she moved during the day. She couldn’t recall a time between ages 2 and 20 that Arya hadn’t been flitting around from one activity to another. Yet, as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was still as stone.

But the marvel in this view is different.

It isn’t just how Gendry curls around her daughter’s other leg, although his clutching hold on her thigh makes her think of Rickon’s obsession with the stuffed wolf Jon had gifted him before the boys went to college.

Catelyn notices how Arya’s right hand is resting on the side of Gendry’s face. With how his left hand is covering hers and his face almost unseeable against Arya’s torso, she absently wonders how Gendry could even breathe. His faint snore assures her that, somehow, he was.

“They are so good together,” Catelyn sighs. There was nothing so satisfying asknowing each of her children was well-loved. Robb had Myrcella, Jon with Ygritte, Sansa and Sandor, Arya with Gendry, Bran and Meera, and even Rickon had come home last Tuesday talking about how his math tutor Shireen had agreed to go to prom with him. “No other sophomore is taking a senior, Mom,” he had asserted, “I’m literally the coolest person in the family right now.” 

Ned tugs Catelyn a bit closer so he can whisper, “Look at her left hand.” 

Catelyn glances up at her husband with a quick intake of breath. It’s dark - are his eyes glistening? He nods his chin out towards the sleeping couple. 

Catelyn squints. Surely not? But - yes! In the slivers of streetlight and moonlight from the living room windows, Catelyn can see the glimmer of a silver band and inset stones against her daughter’s left ring finger. It is almost hidden with Arya’s hand cradling the crown of Gendry’s thick hair. 

“Oh, Ned!” She sighs again, leaning against her husband’s side as his arm tightens on her shoulder. “I guess we know why they insisted that we come down this weekend.”

It seems that Ned can only nod in response, looking choked up. He had been the crier during all parts of planning and attending Robb’s wedding, much to everyone’s surprise. Everyone but Catelyn, of course. She’d always known her husband was a real softy under that gruff Northern exterior.

“Come on, love,” she gives a little tug on Ned’s shirt. “We’ll celebrate our little wolf and her catch in the morning.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I could not get the image out of my head of Gendry cuddled up to Arya on the sofa. This is my first GoT fic, and my first fanfic since maybe 2007. 
> 
> Title from Hozier’s “In A Week.” Typed on my phone and unedited, so please excuse any errors or terribly run-on sentences. I love commas. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I’m semperlitluv on Tumblr. Come visit.


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